Goodbye, Red
by Shamira
Summary: [one-shot following the hotel fire] He lost the love of his life. She didn't believe in love. She could have been his salvation. Heck, he could have been hers. Until what could have been went up in a burst of smoke and flames.


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Author's Note: First off, let me say whoever put Luke and Skye in the same room back in October was a genius, and the story has just been getting better and better since. I haven't been able to say that about a lot (okay, any) storylines on GH recently. I love SLye, and I hope we see a lot more of them in the future. Now, about the fic...I'm not sure about this fic. It probably could be a lot better than it is. I really don't know if anyone will like it or if even I like it, but the idea struck me and I had to write it. I've never written anything like this before. Thank you to the reviewers and lurkers in advance. I appreciate you taking the time, and I hope someone will like it, weird as it is.

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Summary: [one-shot following the hotel fire] He lost the love of his life. She didn't believe in love. She could have been his salvation. Heck, he could have been hers. Until what could have been went up in a burst of smoke and flames.

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Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with _General Hospital _or ABC, and none of the characters in this story belong to me. A majority of the dialogue in this chapter is directly excerpted from _General Hospital_ transcripts provided by the TV Megasite. It belongs to _General Hospital_, ABC, and the writers, Guza and Pratt. 

Goodbye Red

Ever pulled up a seat on the ledge of General Hospital's roof? Probably not, but I've been up here a few times myself, and it's kind of comfy in a drab concrete sort of way. I gotta tell you, the scenery used to be a lot better. Now there's this big eyesore, and it's not the Quartermaine crane, if that's what jumped into your mind. It's a pile of charred and twisted black metal stuff that used to be the Port Charles Hotel. You look close enough, you can see the firefighters digging through what's left, looking for bodies so they can return them to their loved ones...or if they're on Tracy Q's payroll, maybe they're trying to salvage whatever there is left, which isn't a hell of a lot, if I do say so from this faraway perch. Maybe my son's down there.

Now, a lot of you may be wondering what me and my bottle of whiskey are doing out on the hospital roof. It's simple. I'm going to jump. And I'm going to tell you why...in just a minute.

But first you're probably wondering _why_ the hospital roof, and if you're not, bear with the longwinded old guy who needs to get a few things off his chest, will you? There are plenty of other ways and places to do this, and I thought about them. I pulled that little gun out of the cluttered drawer in my office and even went so far as to pull the trigger. The flag shot out, unfurled, and poked me in the head. BANG! That gun has done a lot more good than harm when it comes to saving my worthless hide, let me tell you, but it wasn't doing me or anyone else a heck of a lot of good at that moment in time. I thought about jumping off the _Haunted Star_, too, letting the currents in the harbor drown me. Then I said, nah. I'd be labeled a missing person for life--another person's life, that is. The PCPD would never be able to find me. I might as well make this easy for them. Jump off the roof, break a zillion or so bones on the sidewalk thirty feet from the hospital morgue...it'd be hard for even the PCPD to screw up on that one though if anyone could, they'd be the joint to pull it off.

It's been two days since the helicopters got everyone lucky enough to make it to the top floor off the roof of the hotel. Forty-five minutes later, the building collapsed on everyone who didn't make it.

Red was one of them. Now, you tell me, how is that fair? A beautiful, vibrant, smart, funny, feisty, stubborn young thing like herself, having her life snuffed out by some inferno she should have been able to conquer as easy as everything else.

The truth is, it's not right. It's not fair.

And it's entirely my fault.

But before you start thinking the longwinded old guy is wallowing in self-pity, let me tell you how it happened and prove to you it's the truth, cold and harsh as it is.

It all started when Faith opened her mouth and asked if I knew the layout of the hotel. Or maybe it started when Skye decided to stick around and save my life, but I'm not too picky about beginnings. This one works as well as any other. I filled her in on the wiring issues, which could make the room we were in break into flames at any moment. That was enough incentive for Faith, who suggested we get moving right away...not a bad idea, I thought.

Skye didn't follow us. She just stood in the middle of the room. What was she waiting for? "Let's go!"

She held up a hand, shaking her head. "No way. I'm not going anywhere."

Now I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, quite a few on the larger scale mind you, but talking her out of staying was the biggest in the past year or two. It was probably a whole lot safer in that room, and I should have just left her.

Instead, I tried to talk her into going. All the while Faith stood in the background, suggesting we leave the princess behind, but neither of us listened to her. Lack of attention drives her crazy.

I told her she just couldn't sit and wait for the room to go up in flames, but she disagreed, suggesting we wait to get evacuated. Saying that it was too risky. I said we had to go up or down now. I tried to explain that the explosions probably blocked the stairwells below this floor, and that they'd put choppers on the roof if that were the case. I was right in both cases, but it didn't turn out to be the kind of thing you brag about when you're done worrying about having your skin burned off.

Faith rapped her knuckles on the doorjamb, sticking her big hair someplace where it didn't belong. "Oh, hello! Less chat, more running for cover!"

I barely heard her, but her very voice prickled on my nerves.

Skye tried to convince me. "Luke, come on, you already passed out once."

True, and I felt like I was going to again. "Yeah, and your first-aid techniques have make me a stronger, better man," was my comeback, quick and sarcastic. She didn't laugh. Didn't even crack a smile. Neither did I. This wasn't funny. "Skye!" I yelled her name. "The fire is moving through the walls! This room could go up in flames in five minutes!"

"Well, you know, it hasn't reached us yet, okay?"

This wasn't working. All it was doing was wearing me out, not wearing her down. "Darling, I'm no white knight."

She told me that this wasn't a test. That she wasn't waiting for me to rescue her. That was all well and good for both of us, but it wasn't going to get either of us out alive. And if she wasn't expecting anything, what the hell was she waiting for? I asked her to come with me.

Skye shook her head. "No way, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm staying."

"Great, super," Faith interjected. "Let's go. My nail polish is _melting_."

Once again, we ignored her, and just looked at each other. I was silently begging her to come along, and I thought the message was loud and clear enough, but she still wasn't getting it. "Good luck," she wished us.

"Yeah, good luck." What else was there to say?

I turned around and I left. I followed Faith halfway down the hall. I thought I could do it. I thought I could walk away. After all, my life was on the line. But, hell, who was I kidding anyway? I couldn't leave anyone to turn into a crispy sausage in this overrated hunk of boards and nails the Quartermaines called a five-star hotel, except for maybe Madam Cassidine and Count Vlad, but he was dead anyway--killed by me and I'm damn proud of it. As for the Queen of the Damned...well, with any luck she was going out in a burst of flame and a lack of glory up in the Vasi Room. But Red was a different story. I couldn't leave Red.

I _should_ have left Red, but I think we've established that point by now.

"What are you _doing?_" Faith shouted after me as I turned around and ran back to the room. I didn't answer her. She could find out for herself if she could clomp those ridiculously high heels of hers within hearing range.

Skye was sitting in that chair in the middle of the room, and she jerked around when she heard me, almost as startled by my return as I was.

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

She was shocked that I'd come back, but she still wasn't backing down. She told me staying was about logic and common sense, and at the time, I wondered where the hell she'd gotten that theory from. Now I know where she got it from. She was right.

"No, it's called blind panic!" Faith screeched. "Look, I'm not going to die because this bimbo is too drunk or too dumb to walk out of a burning building!"

"Feel free to leave us," I said, not even glancing back at her. It wasn't we wouldn't be happy to be rid of her. She was hurting our ears.

She didn't take the hint. "No. I saved your life. I expect you to return the favor."

Of course she did. Everything for a price. You first, after me.

"You know, I may loathe that woman, but she's got a point. Look, you know, you and Faith, you want to go, go."

And I said _Faith _couldn't take a hint. "Listen to me. If you don't come with me right now, I'm going to have to clock you. I'm going to have to punch your lights out, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you out, and that's going to be hard on my poor little lungs!" I was almost whining at the end there, but can you really blame me? The hotel was twenty floors, and that's a lot of stairs for an old guy like me.

"Luke, you aren't responsible for me."

"I am not leaving without you. You stay, I stay. If this room goes up in flames and we both die, it's going to be a terrible shame--" I paused, gulped in some air, and corrected myself. "...in your case, at least."

"Come _on!_" The black widow was getting a bit impatient. "Are you coming or going, Luke?"

I looked straight at Skye. "That's entirely up to you."

Skye just looked at me for a minute. Thinking about, trying to decide how much she trusted me. And I guess she decided she trusted me more than she thought she did and definitely more than she should have, because she smiled. "All right. I'm with you."

I hadn't thought I'd be able to get through to her. I thought she'd decide she wanted to stay put, and then we'd both be goners, and does anyone really want to die without getting a choice in the matter? But she'd decided to tag along after all, and I couldn't have been happier, not knowing how things were going to turn out. In the heat of the moment, I kissed her, and then I pushed her out into the hall. I had no idea I was kissing her goodbye.

We lost Faith somewhere on the staircase. She decided she didn't like the direction we were going and turned the other way. I guess the chemicals from her hairspray hadn't affected her as much as we thought, because she made it out of the building alive and continues to rub all those she comes in contact with the wrong way.

As for Skye and me, well we continued up, and we were making fairly good progress...at least until the next explosion rocked the hotel. Burning rumble streamed down on us as the entire floor shook. Skye had made it up to the next landing, and I was right behind her. She screamed and the blast sent her reeling into me, knocking us both down the flight of stairs we'd just climbed. I don't know about you, but I'm not fond of backtracking.

Smoke poured down the stairwell, clouding our vision not to mention our lungs. It was some strong cigar we were choking on. We couldn't see a thing three feet in front of us.

"Keep down," I instructed Skye. We tried to work our up the stairs. A huge burning beam stood between us and the twelve or so floors left to climb. There was no way around it. It was too far a jump from one railing to the one above it.

"This is not good," I commented. Understatement of the year, that one.

Skye clutched my arm. "Luke, what are we going to do?"

How was I supposed to know? "What do I look like, a walking survival guide?!"

"You told me the safest way to go was up!"

"It is!"

"We should have just stayed put like I said! Why did I listen to you? This is all your fault."

Well, even then I wasn't going to argue that point. It'd take more oxygen than either of us had to spare--not that we had any in the first place.

Skye leaned against the wall. "We're going to die, aren't we?"

"It's possible," I responded cheerfully. Her response was to almost start crying. I hate it when woman cry. It makes me feel like I should being doing something but I never can figure out exactly what that something is. I started pulling her down the stairs. "You know, you're cute when you panic."

"I'm not panicking," Skye shouted. "I'm having a perfectly normal reaction to being stuck in a building with a raving mad lunatic!"

"No, see, this is panic. It's very cute."

Her eyes flashed. It _was_ cute. "You better get us out of here, okay, because I have no intention of dying in a stairwell, especially with you! Where are we going?" she asked, finally seeming to realize I was leading her somewhere.

"We're going down to the next floor and we're going to make our way to the stairway on the other side of the building."

She stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head, and maybe a third after the second. "That's crazy!"

Crazier than staying put with the ceilings collapsing around us? I didn't think so. "I've never claimed not to be crazy, sweetheart. _Would you just trust me?_"

She shut up and didn't object any farther as I dragged her down to the closest landing. I felt the door. It was warm, but not hot. "Feel that." She did. "This is okay. See?" I opened the door. The fire licked at the side of the room but there was a clear path to the other side of the building. "After you, blaze."

"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "There's no way that I'm going in there first. No way."

Fine, she could be that way. "You try to be a gentleman and see what happens?" I stepped into the room, proving that the floor wasn't going to collapse beneath us, or at least me. "Come on, hurry!"

She ran past me, and that's when it happened. Somewhere we heard yelling, and I didn't realize until afterwards that it was Lucky, and he was shouting a warning to us about something. Faster than we could do anything about it, the fire got to the ceiling, and a section of it caved in on us in plume of flames and smoke.

I scrambled to my feet, Lucky giving me a hand. "Skye!"

There was a wall of fire about three feet high separating Skye from us, and she was searching wildly and fruitlessly for an escape. I didn't get it. There was still a clear path down the other side of the hall, wasn't there? She could still reach the stairway and climb to the roof. Lucky and I were the ones who were trapped. We couldn't go up, and we couldn't go down. "What are you doing?" I yelled at her. _"Run!"_

"I can't!" Her shriek cut clearly through the smoky air.

What did she mean, _I can't_? It was Lucky who explained it to me, pointing out the flames that had erupted behind her, "She's trapped!"

Skye's eyes met mine over the fire, and I saw the look in her eyes. Now _this_ was panic, the real kind. And it wasn't at all cute. It was terrifying. _"Help me!"_ she screamed desperately.

"Stay calm!" Lucky called in his police-officer voice, that calm one that was supposed to be reassuring. But when is it ever reassuring to have a police officer yelling at you to stay calm?

"Don't worry, Red! We'll get you out." How we were going to get her out was another issue entirely, and not one we had a lot of time to think through. "Got any bright ideas, Cowboy?"

Before he could answer, another section of the ceiling came down, crashing to the floor. Lucky and I ducked as a hot shower of sparks sprayed toward us. There was still a chance to reach her, and she trusted we would. At least until she looked up.

Thick black smoke and flames crawled along what little ceiling remained above her, and in that moment she knew. Oh, she knew. She looked straight at me, this complete and utter horror and betrayal in her eyes. I'll never forget the look in her eyes. She'd trusted me. She'd trusted I'd get her out of there, safe and sound if maybe a little singed. And I'd failed her.

"Skye!" I screamed. Too little, too late. The ceiling gave out, crashing down on all of us. She didn't scream. Or maybe she did and I just didn't hear her over my own screams. The heavy beams fell on top of her, smothering the flames but crushing her beneath their massive weight. And that was the end of Red.

I remember Lucky trying to hold onto me. And I remember yelling at him to let go of me so we could save her. He kept saying that there was nothing we could, do, that she was gone, and that we needed to get out of there. Dr. Quack would say I was in denial if he were alive, and to tell you the truth he'd be right, but I didn't believe him. In the end Lucky got me out of there. He had to enlist the help of a firefighter who was looking for people trapped in the stairwell, but he pulled it off. He found a way to get us to the Versailles Room. He's a good kid.

Here's a toast to one hell of a woman. Goodbye, Red.

So now you have a better understanding of why I'm doing this. Or maybe you don't.

Skye gave me something to live for after I lost Laura. She saved me from myself and that's quite a feat. I had a chance to pay her back that day in the hotel. I let her down.

But I have one last chance to get it right.

I promised Skye that if she was going down, we were going down together. I'm a little late, but you know what they say.

Better late than never.

~*~


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